Omission of a Lie
by Trins xxx
Summary: Regina wonders when the omission of a truth started feeling more like a lie. She finally tells Henry that he's adopted but there's no smooth sailing. It hardly goes how she would have liked it to.


**Disclaimer: **I dont't own Once Upon a Time. Nor am I making any peanuts with these fanfiction stories.

**Author's Note****: **A little one-shot at how I think Henry found out anbout being adotped. It's not all smooth sailing.

**Read and Review****: **Tell me what's good and what's bad, what's awesome and what's awful. Most of all, tell me how to make it better!

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Omission of a Lie

'There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.'

_Benjamin Disraeli_

Regina isn't quite sure when the omission of the truth became a lie but she knows that it feels like one, weighing heavily on her chest as she licks her lips and debates on what to say.

She's looking at her son with an eerie sense of disbelief as he candidly tells her how rubbish it must be for adopted children, to be rejected by their parents and she can't quite believe it is her son, her lovely Henry, saying these words. Unbidden, words come to her mind about how she must have corrupted the innocence and intrinsic goodness of her baby boy but the words leave almost immediately and she isn't sure what to make of them. Related to her bad relationship with her mother before her passing, no doubt but there's a niggling thought somewhere that it should mean more to her.

She weighs words and syllables carefully on her lips, before daring to utter any.

'You know, Henry, that adopted children can have all the more love than other children, because it means their parent chose them especially,' she finally settles on, closely eyeballing him for his reaction.

He doesn't have much of one, his focus still on the television show. He just replies carelessly that it must still be awful to be rejected by their actual parents and wouldn't they always wonder if they'll be returned if they do something wrong.

It hurts Regina like little else. Is this how her Henry feels? Or will feel, when he finds out, she wonders? There's a painful constriction that she can't quite get rid of in her throat, and she has to control her trembling lips before attempting speech. Her voice sounds horrendously croaky when she does, and all she manages to get out is a Henry before he turns his sharp eyes on her, picking up on her distress.

Clearly, an upset mummy is enough to detract his attention from the show which had captivated him moments earlier.

'Mum? What's wrong?' He looks at her uncertainly, trying and failing to understand what's happened to make her so upset? He wonders if maybe she's adopted because he's never seen his grandmother before.

She smiles mistily at him, easing his concerns just the tiniest bit. He can't bear to see her upset. He sometimes gets scared of her angry but her being upset is so much worse.

'Henry, there's something I need to tell you. I wanted to wait till your older…' She trails of with a sound that's part sob, part sigh and part sniff. It doesn't sound eloquent in the least, she thinks, before brushing that thought away. What need does a simple mayor of a small hick town have of being eloquent, really? She perches herself next to him, afraid of a rejection but ploughing on regardless. 'Henry…' She falters again, before deciding that ripping off the Band-Aid is probably for the best. He always hates it at the time but he hates it more when she does it slowly. It's not a perfect analogy but it works enough for her to derive strength from it. 'I'm not your birth mother, baby. I adopted you, because your birth mother was too young to really look after you.'

She looks expectantly at him, analysing every single microscopic reaction. She watches his brows furrow together, eyes widen a little, mouth fall a little slack and she notices it when he leans back, away from her, just the tiniest bit.

It stings a hell of a lot more than she could have imagines.

She forces the tears back from her eyes. Now isn't about her, it's about Henry and helping him through it.

'My…birth mother rejected me?' He asks finally, eyes not quite meeting hers.

'No,' she replies instantly. 'She never rejected you, baby. She was way too young to look after you. She was still in high school and she didn't have parents to help her-'

'_You_ don't have parents to help you,' he interrupts, eyes flashing brightly but still refusing to contact hers.

'It's different, Henry.' Part of her wants to vilify the birth mother, reduce any possible threat from her as much as possible. The part that loves her son so completely far outweighs her insecurities. 'I had a job, I was ready to be a parent, wanted desperately to be one.'

'So, what? I was an accident?' His lips twist into a sneer and it looks alien on his face.

'Henry, no, not at all. She wouldn't have carried on with her pregnancy if she hadn't loved you. She just wanted more for you than she could give.'

'Like love and acceptance?' He asks, without truly thinking about the implications of his words. The stunned silence that meets his words finally make him look at who he'd thought of as his mum.

He takes in her red nose, the slightly blotchy cheeks and the overfilled eyes dropping silent tears and god, all of _that_ makes him feel so much worse than finding out he was adopted and his birth mother didn't care about it.

He's opened his mouth to speak but she beats him to it. Clearing her thought and looking away, her voice is impartial, detached, as she speaks. 'You can finish watching this show and you can play around for another hour, but after that, it's bedtime.' Her voice is hardly as no-nonsense as it normally is but there's no part of Henry that wants to argue with her like he normally would.

The flickering pictures and images mean little to him as his young mind dwells on everything his mum had said. No, not his mum, he thinks, but it sounds all wrong to say that, even in his mind. He finds that he can't forget her croaky voice or her tears and he doesn't know what to say, how to make it better. It's in the middle of these musings that it hits him.

It never once occurred to him that his mum would give him back.

His throat closes up and now it's his turn to get teary-eyed. He was mean to his mum, he sort of gets that now. He doesn't really understand why, too young to have heard of deflection, let alone understanding it, but he knows he made his mummy upset and that she shouldn't be.

He trudges up to bed after the hour, feeling surprising depressed that his mum didn't come downstairs to tell him to get to bed. As he passes her room, he hears the stifled sobs and it hurts him, more than anything else has done that night. Without a thought, he opens her bedroom door and rushes to her, squeezing her tightly in an all-encompassing hug that tells her everything she needed to know.

He's trying to hide his own sobs, so he can't say the words but she does, mumbling it into his hair as her arms circle him in a loving, comforting hug. 'I love you, I love you so much. Don't ever forget that. I love you.' It's like a mantra, easing the fears he didn't know he had, soothing the pain he felt at finding out he was adopted.

When they finally separate, and she tucks him into his bed like she has done every night since she brought him home, he finally says it back. 'I love you more.'

Her eyes fill up again at the words but her voice is clear when she speaks. 'Don't every forget, Henry,' she says fiercely. 'I love you most, more than anything in the world and I would do anything, _anything,_ for you.' It's a promise more than an assurance and when Henry falls asleep that night, every time he wakes up from bad dreams, he finds her there by his bedside, having fallen asleep whilst keeping a watch on him.

When he wakes up in the morning, he thinks long and hard about everything she had said. And he decides that maybe she's right. Maybe adopted children can have more love than the others, because they're chosen and they're special. And his mum chose him, out of everyone else, and he has no doubt that she loves him as much as he loves.

It's with a smile and kiss on the cheek that he greets her that mornings, enjoying the surprised smile that spread across her face.

He doesn't tell her this but he thinks he's got the best mum in the world. Maybe he'll tell her one day, but for now, it's his little secret.


End file.
